Lunchtime Conversations From The Office
R is hovering near my desk, and then looks at me.
R: "I've got nuts everywhere."
Me: "I didn't need to know that."
R: "...in my mouth."
Earlier in a rather soul-draining day, a suggestion is made (not by me) that we should all quit our jobs and go and start a yoghurt farm (I'm not really sure why yoghurt (or a farm), but anyway).
Later, as things become progressively worse, the following conversation occurs:
M: "Let's all leave now and go and live on the yoghurt farm."
Me: "I don't want to farm yoghurt, but I will go and live on the farm, as long as I can have Internet access to do my own thing."
J: "...what are those people in America?"
Me: "The Amish. I find them quite charming."
M: "They don't have computers. You won't have Internet access."
Me: "I didn't say I want to be the Amish, I said they're charming."
J: "Kalahari[.net] has just sent me book suggestions for Valentine's. They're all sex books." [J reads some of the titles aloud.]
Me: "Why is that? Why would they send that? Have you bought books like that from them before? I don't get emails like that..."
J: "No. I've never bought any of these books..." [Reads more titles aloud.]
... [I'm snipping some inappropriate stuff. Children may be reading this!]
M: "First you get a love letter from some guy [an errant email received yesterday that was sent to the wrong person], then you get book suggestions from Kalahari..."
Me: "The universe is trying to tell you something. I wonder what that is?"
J: "Sometimes, when faced with yet another [a certain type of job we do] I think perhaps it might be better to go off and vomit for three days [rather than do the job]."
Me: "Actually I don't get the urge to throw up so much as crawl under my desk in the foetal position."
P: "Show us."
Me: "I'm not doing it for your amusement."
P: "Not? How selfish is that?"
R and I have a disagreement with P as to whether P has a DVD writer in his Mac.
I go to his machine to prove him wrong and point out that he, indeed, does have a DVD writer so he can pretty much write anything (CDs, DVDS). He expresses great, excited surprise (as only he can).
Me: (waving hands emphatically in the air): "Oh! Now we're going to have all sorts of things happening."
R: "Smoke's going to start coming out of that machine.... You'll need a plastic protective device..."
The art department is right next us, and we're only separated by a thin wall, so half the time we can hear snippets of conversations (which I would do well to remember for reasons of personal preservation, but never do). We overhear one of the art people asking, in the art room, where a job bag is. She then walks all the way around to get to our office to see if we have it.
J (before she can speak): "I have it here."
Art person: "I think we need a porthole in the wall."
Me: "A porthole, or a portal?" [I imitate zapping things through a portal.]
M: "I want a portal so I can go home."
Me: "...and not come back?"
M: "No, so I can go forward to the weekend."
Me: "That's a time portal. That's a bit more difficult."
Labels: At The Office